heliosphere
by Charley The Plant
Summary: After the Themis Legal Academy case, Clay and Apollo "meet up to gossip about the new girl in the office." Clay learns what word Apollo used to describe him to Athena.


_Please._

 _Whoever you are…. Please…._

 _Help me…. Help me…._

* * *

"So what did you say?"

The Gavinners were on the radio again and Apollo snorted. He let his head languidly roll to the side while his eyes focused on the streetlights, bright against the pitch black sky, as they cruised. The man with the big voice was uncharacteristically quiet as Klavier Gavin's voice crooned harmoniously into the silence. Clay stared quietly at the road.

"I said you were pretty awesome." Apollo chuckled as he finally turned his head back to Clay. "Happy?"

"'Pretty awesome' is two words, not 'one word.'" Clay jokingly slapped Apollo's shoulder as he brought the car to a stop at a red light. The brakes squealed in protest. "C'mon, Apollo. What did you _really_ say to the new girl?"

Apollo shrugged Clay's hand off. "Hey, it was awhile ago! I don't remember what I told Athena about you."

"It was _yesterday._ " The light turned green and Clay pressed on the gas pedal. The engine sputtered indignantly and the car set into motion once again. "So after you both finished up the case at Themis Legal Academy, you said you summed me up to Athena in one word. What was the word?"

Apollo started laughing before he responded. "Smelly."

"Dude, shut up!" Clay reached over to scuff Apollo's hair as Apollo wrestled with his hand.

"Not the hair, Clay! And what the hell are we listening to on the radio?" Apollo sighed. "Can I change the station?"

"You can do whatever you want. This is basically your car too." Clay smiled as he tightened his fingers around the steering wheel, the old leather grip feeling rough and thin underneath his fingers.

 _Comfortable._

This was the definition of comfortable, Clay thought. Apollo found a song he liked on the car radio—one of those older models from last century where you had to twist a knob to tune into a station—and the two young men sat back in their seats and smiled. Everything—the car, the company, the city lights—was comfortable for Clay. Familiar.

Clay's car was old; it had lost its new car scent in exchange for the scent of exhaust fumes and old engine oil long ago, and the once supple leather of the seats had since become torn and faded. It had never been a very pretty car or the kind of car that made men and women stop in admiration, but it was _their_ car, and when they were in it they were _free._ The young men had spent the better part of their teenage years roving around in that car, eating burgers, spilling drinks on the upholstery, and talking loudly to each other over the incessant hum of the engine.

 _Comfortable. That must be what it's like to come home._

The lights continued to speed by as Clay gave his friend a sideways glance. Passing shadows muffled the contours of Apollo's face as they made their way across town. "Even if it's true, I'll never forgive you if you really told the new girl that I smelled."

"What do you care what I told her?" Apollo absently adjusted his perfectly coiffed spikes. "You haven't even seen her. You don't even know if she's cute enough for you to be worried about what I said about you."

"Well then, is she?" Clay turned his head to look at Apollo, whose eyebrows were raised in puzzlement. Clay pursed his lips and turned back to the road when Apollo smirked. "Cute, I mean."

Apollo sunk back into his chair and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I guess, in a manner of speaking. She threw a policeman at me when we first met, then she asked me to tie her up for a demonstration during out last court case—" Apollo shuddered. "Even worse, she gets along with Klavier Gavin."

"But is she _cute?_ "

Apollo sunk even lower into his seat and turned to face the window. Clay chuckled to himself as another Gavinners song played over the radio.

 _Comfortable. That must be what it's like to come home. …Except neither of us has ever had a home to come back to._

"You know, Athena and Apollo are siblings in the Greek pantheon." While deftly changing the topic, Clay switched the blinker on before making a left turn.

Apollo straightened up in his seat before changing the radio station. "What do you mean, they're 'siblings'?"

"Zeus is their father," Clay explained. The two men were approaching their destination now, and Clay slowed the car to the street's requisite 20 mph. "Apollo was the son of Zeus and Leto, the daughter of Titans. Athena sprang from Zeus' head when he had a splitting headache."

"Athena? Headaches? Everything suddenly makes sense." Apollo laughed as Clay pulled into the parking lot of the space center. The employee lot was empty this late at night, and the lights were off throughout the complex. Clay brought the car to a stop in the middle of the parking lot.

Apollo peered out the window, his breath faintly fogging the glass. "What are we doing at GYAXA?"

Clay turned the key in the ignition and the engine came to a shuddering halt. The headlights flickered off and they were quickly engulfed by darkness as they exited the car. Above, the enormity of the night sky pressed down upon them.

"Speaking of Greek myths…. Grab the grape juice. We're watching the Orionids." Clay expectantly looked over the top of the car at Apollo and gritted his jaw at the sight of the blank look in his eyes. "Don't tell me you've forgotten."

Apollo blinked. "Forgotten what?"

Clay paused, then shook his head as he forced a smile. "Nothing. Come on."

The autumn night was cold. Apollo, as usual, had left his red suit coat at the office, but the chill was forgotten the moment the men hopped onto the warm hood of the car. The twinkling light of distant stars overhead was their only respite from complete darkness.

"The Orionids," Clay began huskily. "It's the annual meteor shower that takes place in October. It's named for Orion." He paused. "Have you really forgotten?"

Apollo busied himself by pouring grape juice into two plastic cups as Clay crossed his legs. "Orion? Isn't Orion a constellation?"

Clay pursed his lips as he looked at Apollo. "You really have forgotten, haven't you?"

Apollo frowned as he slowly handed Clay one of the cups. "Forgotten what, Clay?"

Clay absently took the cup from Apollo. "All the Greek myths we learned back then: Orion. Zeus. Athena. Apollo. Back when we were kids."

Apollo pursed his lips and leaned back against the hood of the car to let the warmth from the engine seep into his back. "Sorry, Clay. But you're the space expert now, aren't you?" He stretched his arms as he lay back and folded them under his head. "Why don't you refresh my memory?"

It was all there in the old book Solomon had given to them years ago: _Greek Myths and Legends._ Learning about stars and planets went hand in hand with learning about the story behind the patterns they formed in the sky. Sagittarius, the centaur who taught Achilles archery; Aquarius, the cupbearer of the gods; Orion, the hunter. Beloved and pitied by the gods, their stories and tales have been set into the sky for all to see for eternity. It was all there in the old book, tattered and worn now from the years of poring over its pages.

And Apollo had forgotten.

 _Uncomfortable._

"Orion was a hunter," Clay began quietly. "A great hunter who hunted with Artemis. He was so good at it that Gaia sent a giant scorpion to stop Orion from hunting the animals to extinction. The scorpion succeeded in killing him, but the gods set Orion in the sky in honor of his prowess." Clay pointed a finger into the sky. "They put the scorpion in the sky, too."

"Scorpio?" Apollo tilted his head upwards to look at the sky. "So Scorpio killed Orion?"

Clay nodded and finished his grape juice in one swig. "It did. And the meteor shower we're about to see is called the Orionids because they appear near the constellation of Orion every year."

Apollo scanned the sky in search of the meteors. "I don't see any."

Clay poured himself another drink. "You will. They'll show up. They always do."

With a sigh, Apollo settled back down onto the hood of the car. The rhythmic ticking of the engine settling down underneath the hood was all that could be heard in the darkness. "What about the 'Apollo' constellation?" he asked with a chuckle.

Clay took a sip. Apollo the sun god. Apollo turned day into night and night into day by driving a chariot with the sun in tow across the sky. Apollo was the god who could banish the cold night, the one who brought warmth to people's lives, the one who helped everything on the earth to flourish and grow.

 _Familiar. Like home._

Clay looked up into the sky and picked out Venus and Mars from the coterie of stars. "Apollo's a god," he finally explained. "Gods don't get constellations."

Apollo sat up at the news. "Well, that doesn't seem fair. They're gods. Aren't they the ones who are supposed to be honored?"

Clay sighed and turned to his friend. "The gods don't get to be constellations because they're immortal. To be set among the stars means that they've—" Clay paused, took another sip, and slowly continued. "Gods don't need constellations to be remembered or honored. They're always there, more often for the benefit of humans than not." Clay pointed a finger at Orion. "But Orion…. Orion was not immortal. When he died, the gods wanted everyone to remember his prowess as a hunter, and so they placed him amongst the stars for everyone to remember for eternity." Clay looked at the contents of his cup, smiled, and took a sip. "When we humans die, we'll be forgotten, along with all of our deeds and achievements. The gods put the extraordinary ones among us into the heavens to remind us that they once existed."

Silence again. The two men sat quietly beside each other, both looking up at the night sky. The ticking of the metal settling underneath the hood had finally petered out. All there was now was darkness. The bright streetlights that flashed by as they drove on their way to GYAXA seemed to have existed eons ago.

"I don't have a constellation either, if it makes you feel any better," Clay quipped. "Clay Terran. I'm not named after a god. I'm not particularly special." Clay chuckled to himself. "At least 'Solomon Starbuck' sounds like an astronaut's name."

Apollo frowned. "Hey, hey. Clay Terran is a pretty cool name."

Clay laughed again, nervously this time. "Nah." He let his gaze drift upward once more. "Sometimes I think this Earthling has no business amongst the stars."

 _Orphaned. We've never had a home. We don't know what home is like._

Clay let a wry smile cross his lips. "Why would a guy like me need a constellation?"

"You don't need one."

Clay turned to Apollo, who was still looking up at the night sky. "You're an astronaut now, Clay. Somehow you've managed to find your way into the stars, and I think that's pretty damned special." Apollo looked down at the empty cup in his hands and gently placed it down upon the hood of the car. " _Greek Myths and Legends._ "

Clay frowned for a moment, then his countenance lifted. "You _do_ remember. You ass."

Apollo laughed as he turned to look at Clay. "Of course I remember. We spent hours, weeks, years looking at that book." He sighed and pressed his face to the night sky. "I just wanted to hear you tell me Greek myths again like you did long ago. It feels nice to hear you speak. It feels like..."

Clay turned away and let his chin fall onto his chest.

 _Comfortable. That must be what it's like to come home. …Except neither of us have ever had a—_

"Home."

Clay peered at Apollo through the darkness. "Home?"

Apollo nodded. "You wanted to know what I told Athena, and that's what I told her. If I had to describe you in one word, it would be 'home.'" Apollo cleared his throat and stared off towards the horizon, his voice distant; hazy. "This car, the night sky, GYAXA... Wherever we are, as long as we're together, it feels like home."

Apollo turned to face Clay, his eyes somehow bright against the backdrop of the night sky. "I don't need a constellation to remember you, Clay. I couldn't forget you even if I tried. Even if the world forgets you—" Apollo's voice broke for a moment. He cleared his throat and hesitantly began again. "Even if the world forgets you, even after all the amazing things you're about to do in space, I never will. So after...after your mission's over…."

Clay stared at Apollo expectantly. Apollo turned and flashed his familiar grin.

"Come home, okay?"

Clay nodded, absently rubbing the patchy paint of the car's hood with his fingertips. "Yeah."

And with that, the Orionid meteors became visible in the night sky. Apollo pointed and turned his attention excitedly towards the curtain of shooting stars. Clay followed suit after a moment, his own attention now fixed on the meteors flashing like fireworks in the sky.

 _Please._

Clay closed his eyes and made his wish on a shooting star.

 _Whoever you are…. Whoever is responsible for granting these wishes…. Please…. Help me…. Help me remember this moment…for as long as I live._

Clay opened his eyes to find Apollo in his field of vision—the same familiar Apollo—sitting transfixed on the hood of his old car, counting the shooting stars with rapt attention. The warmth of the engine had long since dissipated into the October air, but somehow—somehow—Clay felt warm. A familiar warmth. Warm like home.

Maybe they weren't meant to have a place in the stars, like Orion or Aquarius. Maybe they didn't need one. Maybe they would be remembered after their time on this planet was over, after the old car was rusted and forgotten, after all the books telling tales of heroes long gone have crumbled into obscurity. But if not, then they would be shooting stars, illuminating the universe with a lustrous flame before twinkling out of existence. But at least—at least—the world would know they had lived.

Clay poured himself another drink, looked up into the sky, and breathed.


End file.
